Page 11 of Space Daddy’s Guide to the Galaxy (Villains in Space #2)

11

ZIGGY

To say I was triggered by the sight of my maker suited up in their Star Unit-issued armor and headed into battle was an understatement.

What if…

Just like when they…

“I’ll be fine, Ziggy,” Honnor stepped closer and placed a hand on my chest, coaxing my resonance into answering theirs. “Initial reports indicate the approaching ships are carrying Irathians. This will be child’s play.”

“Are I-Irathians not dangerous?” Micah stuttered, his voice muffled behind the shields he’d already activated to cover himself and Pedro.

Finally, some self-preservation!

“ Oh, they are incredibly dangerous—to those with corporeal forms,” my maker distractedly replied while glancing at an incoming message on their cube. “But Irathians are flesh-eaters, and since we have no flesh to devour…”

“Like zombies?!” Micah squeaked.

Honnor didn’t correct what was an accurate assessment, but their next words surprised me. “ It would be best if the three of you took the Lodger and escaped elsewhere for now—in case Pedro is the asset they’re after.”

“Pedro is not—” Micah tried to protest, but I placed a hand on his back as best I could through his shields.

You are an asset too, babygirl.

My most precious asset.

“Why would the Irathians want this creature?” I frowned, glancing down at Pedro. “It was the Maroxians I stole from, and they are not allies.”

An explosion from outside had Honnor’s attention understandably wavering. “I do not know, my child, but right now, you need to leave.”

Glorified babysitting was not how I’d expected my day to go, but that wasn’t why I continued to hesitate.

What if…

My maker softened, no doubt picking up on my concern better than I could articulate it. “I promise, I will contact you as soon as the battle is over.”

Thank you.

I could only manage a curt nod in reply, but when Micah immediately blasted me with additional comfort through our bond, I smiled gratefully at my mate. With directives clarified, I star hopped both the assets back to my ship—straight to my weapons room.

Which I apparently won’t be getting back anytime soon.

“I’ll get Pedro settled while you fly us out of here.” Micah flashed me a strained smile in a sorry attempt to disguise the anxiety I could feel pouring off him. “Help us, Space Daddy—you’re our only hope.”

I knew he was simply attempting to lighten the mood with a Star Wars reference, but his words felt like a punch to the gut.

My mate needs me to get him out of danger.

They both do…

The Lodger 79’s cloaking device was activated, so I wasn’t worried about the Irathians spotting us before we took off, but leaving the planet undetected could still be an issue.

Star hopping to the cockpit, I grimly assessed the battle already raging in the sky. Since Stellaria was a popular outpost, and most who stopped here were experienced—and bloodthirsty—enough to join the fray, there were a wide variety of aliens involved, making the situation even more chaotic.

I should be out there, fighting for my planet.

Not that I have the credentials…

With a scowl, I refocused on my directives, reminding myself if Pedro was the reason for this attack, getting them off my planet was as important a task as fighting Irathians in a Star Force squadron.

Even if it feels like running away.

After adjusting various controls, I eased the Lodger into ignition, hovering a few feet off the ground while I decided where to go.

Stellaria’s moons weren’t an option, since I didn’t want to compromise an established hideout, and the idea of potentially bringing the fight to a peaceful planet like Kaalanesea yet again left a bad taste in my mouth.

The Irathians weren’t official allies of the Stellarians, but—until today—we wouldn’t have considered them enemies either. With this unprecedented attack, however, I was now questioning who in the galaxy we could trust.

What would Din Djarin do?

“Hey Zig!” Micah appeared so suddenly at my side, I wondered if he’d star hopped. “Is there a reason we’re, um, not leaving the raging war zone?”

I huffed. “To be honest, sunshine, I’m not entirely sure where would be safest for us to go.”

Past Ziggy would never have admitted he didn’t know what to do—and present day Ziggy still wouldn’t have uttered the words to anyone else but him—but this Earthling had somehow convinced me to let down my guard, almost from the moment we met.

Another impressive superpower.

The trust I had in my stellar collision was ingrained but also earned. Micah’s parents may have expected him to use his powers to ensure others succeeded, but he’d also never resented that assignment.

My mate enjoyed helping others, was the kindest soul I’d ever met, and even once I dared to show him vulnerability, he never took advantage of what others—what I—saw as a weakness. With how his beautiful mind worked, he was more interested in focusing on solutions than problems, and there was nothing I admired in him more.

He probably already came up with a solution ? —

“What if we went somewhere densely populated?” He shrugged and dropped his gaze, as if I might dismiss his input the way everyone else in his life had. “You know… hide in plain sight? I mean, only if you think?—”

I gripped his chin so he’d look at me, relieved he’d lowered his shield. “Must I remind you that you are my partner in all things, and that includes our missions?”

He averted his gaze again, and I frowned as uncertainty flavored the air.

Does he not believe me?

“Hiding in plain sight is an exceptional plan,” I added, in case he needed the validation. “So we’ll head to the nearest Muonova.”

Micah remained silent, but I was satisfied with our plan. Turning in my chair, I faced the dashboard to set our course, focusing all my attention on maneuvering my ship to safety.

And my precious cargo.

It wasn’t until we were clear of Stellaria’s atmosphere that my stellar collision spoke again. “Not to be a Debbie Downer, but… I’m not sure bringing a baby to a bar is the best idea.”

I huffed, unsure who this “Debbie” was and why their uneducated opinion held any weight here. “Muonovas are neutral zones where enemies and allies must coexist or risk being black-bagged.”

Micah furrowed his brow. “Do you mean blacklisted?”

“No,” I replied, disabling our cloaking device once we were out on the Intergalactic Highway so as not to seem suspicious. “Black-bagged. Forcibly removed and never heard from again. It would be bad for business if Muonovas were nothing but violence and bar brawls.”

Even if that’s still a large part of the appeal.

At least, for me it is.

When my mate continued to taste like uncertainty, I swiveled to face him, realizing reassurances were needed. “I promise, sunshine, I will protect Pedro from harm. We will simply stick to the more… family friendly areas of the Muonova, like the market district.”

Not to be confused with the neighboring red light district.

Micah’s eyes lit up. “Oh, right! I forgot about the market.” He chewed his bottom lip for a moment, his big, beautiful brain whirring away. “Hey, maybe we could stock up on supplies for Pedro while we’re there?”

I nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. If we find a vendor from the Yaaritzi galaxy, they might carry metalwork strong enough to prevent Pedro from infiltrating the air ducts again.”

My mate snickered. “Baby proofing the ship isn’t a bad idea, but I was talking about toys and games and stuff.”

Toys and games?

“For… enrichment?” I rolled the word over my tongue, still processing the foreign concept Zion had mentioned during our phone conversation.

Novas weren’t encouraged to play—at least, not under the regime I grew up with. I’d learned how to kill my opponent from the inside and out, how to be useful to Stellarian society as a whole, but I couldn’t recall ever participating in a ‘game’ until I played Deathball as an undercover superhero on Earth.

A sport that would have been better with actual deaths…

“Exactly.” Micah climbed onto the captain’s chair with me, straddling my lap and cupping my face before grinning wildly. “Look at you, being a good Space Daddy to our little alien baby.”

I huffed, annoyed when my dick stirred once again at the idea of “making space babies” with my stellar collision.

This is ridiculous.

“I am simply utilizing the intel your brother shared on keeping a child alive.” I frowned. “Apparently, there’s more to it than simply providing food, water, and shelter.”

Micah delivered a sweet kiss to my lips that instantly settled me. “Yeah, there’s more to it, but we’ll just have to figure it out as we go.”

I don’t like the sound of that.

“You seem to already know what to do,” I muttered sourly, even as I gazed at him in admiration. “A natural provider.”

The perfect mate.

It was Micah’s turn to huff, his cheeks darkening deliciously. “I wouldn’t say it’s totally natural… I just had a good role model.”

“Who?” I scoffed, angry on his behalf all over again. “Your parents were terrible to you—to all your siblings.”

Worse than Theo.

And that’s saying a lot.

“Zion, silly,” he laughed, carding his hands through my hair in a way that made me purr. “He was younger than I am now when he had Daisy, but big bro stepped up! I was barely a teenager when she was born, but it blew my mind to see the way he cared for her, despite our parents’ disapproval. And he had to figure it out on the fly, you know? I mean, he’d always taken care of the rest of us in his own way, but this was different. It was… unconditional.”

My borrowed heart broke for my mate once again. If there was one thing I’d observed during my time as a supposed superhero, it was that all supe families—heroes and villains alike—operated on extremely conditional terms. Clans were aligned, in marriage and business, through ironclad contracts, and even those related to you were expected to prove themselves ‘useful’ at every turn.

Or be culled from the herd.

“It sounds like how you… care for me,” I mused, unleashing a few tendrils to wrap around him, pulling him closer.

Perhaps even love me?

Micah sniffled and rapidly blinked, adorably trying not to cry. “Y-yeah. And how you… care for me too…”

Yes.

If there was one thing I knew, it was that what I felt for Micah was unconditional. I may have since reunited with both my makers, and inherited a much larger family in the process—through resonance and otherwise—but none of these connections were as strong as what I had with my stellar collision. Articulating those emotions were proving to be a challenge, but there was nothing my mate could ever do to change that irrefutable fact.

Nuzzling my face into Micah’s neck, I deeply inhaled, allowing his sunshiney scent to smooth out my lingering concerns.

I can do this.

“We’ll figure this out, Zig,” he murmured, expertly knowing what I needed to hear. “Together.”

We can do this.

Together.